


don't leave me this way, i won't sleep til you're safe inside

by violetdaphne



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Crying, F/M, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, I have a problem, Marriage Proposal, Medical Inaccuracies, Overuse of italics, Swearing, Whump, also warning for andrews he's pretty creepy, desi has a potty mouth, most likely, protective desi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 13:34:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29983623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violetdaphne/pseuds/violetdaphne
Summary: Her palms are sweaty and wrists squeezed uncomfortably tight in the zip ties that bind her and Riley to the metal cart, knees aching where she’s been forced to kneel and god she hates this. She’s sitting here useless and bound while Murdoc beats Mac, her boyfriend, her maybe fiancé, her something and she can’t do anything to stop it. That’s her goddamn job, the whole reason Jack sent her to Phoenix, to protect Mac from psychopaths like Murdoc and Andrews because Phoenix can’t have their best agent dead, but it’s more than that now, because now it’s selfish, now she needs him alive and safe because she wants him alive and safe.-au ending of 5x10
Relationships: Angus MacGyver & Desiree "Desi" Nguyen, Angus MacGyver/Desiree "Desi" Nguyen, Riley Davis & Desiree "Desi" Nguyen
Comments: 18
Kudos: 36





	don't leave me this way, i won't sleep til you're safe inside

**Author's Note:**

> hello! This is an au of the last ep, 5x10 because I just want to pretend canon doesn't exist for a little while lmao. It's definitely more dialogue heavy compared to some of my other fics, and was a little out of my comfort zone to write, so sorry if anyone seems out of character, or for any mistakes! Hope you enjoy! <3
> 
> Warning for violence because it's Murdoc and Andrews, they're violent beings who aim to hurt Mac. 
> 
> Lastly, the title is from Safe Inside by James Arthur

Her palms are sweaty and wrists squeezed uncomfortably tight in the zip ties that bind her and Riley to the metal cart, knees aching where she’s been forced to kneel and  _ god she hates this _ . She’s sitting here useless and bound while Murdoc beats Mac, her boyfriend, her maybe  _ fiancé _ , her  _ something _ and she can’t do anything to stop it. That’s her  _ goddamn  _ job, the whole reason Jack sent her to Phoenix, to protect Mac from psychopaths like Murdoc and Andrews because Phoenix can’t have their best agent dead, but it’s more than that now, because now it’s  _ selfish _ , now she needs him alive and safe because she wants him  _ alive  _ and  _ safe _ . 

Mac grunts as Murdoc forces him down, boot landing hard on his back, and laughs cruelly. It’s harsh and grating on her ears, drowning out Mac’s cries as he kicks his side  _ over  _ and  _ over _ . Desi can see blood dripping from Mac’s lips, dark and red, and can’t stop herself from yelling out his name, tugging fruitlessly at the zip ties until her wrists sting because the plastic is sharp and cutting but she doesn’t  _ care _ . 

“Desi, Desi  _ stop _ !” She barely feels Riley’s fingers graze her own numb ones, but they grip the best they can in an attempt to still her, and she shakes them off. “You’re hurting yourself!” She knows she’s hurting, she knows there’s blood sliding down her arms and jagged cuts in the skin on her wrists, and she  _ does not care _ because Mac is on his back on, and there’s a slash in his cheek and an odd, unnatural angle to his ankle that’s definitely broken -

That gives her an idea, a stupid idea that throws self preservation out the window and an idea that Mac would undoubtedly protest but currently,  _ Mac  _ is half conscious at the hands of Murdoc so she thinks it’s okay, just this once, to ignore his probable input. 

She has to blink away the tears that blur her vision because this  _ is not the time _ , and focuses on pressing the sides of her wrists, the bone of her thumbs against the metal bar she’s tied herself to as discreetly as she can, eyeing Andrews who still has his gun trained on them, but his eyes on the drone camera. 

Riley looks at her with wide eyes, and asks in a slow, suspicious whisper, “Desi, what are you doing -”

She shushes her with a tough glare, shaking her head, and Riley purses her lips, grim realization taking over her features.  _ Good _ , Desi thinks, because she’s not going to change her mind. 

She presses harder and  _ harder _ , gritting her teeth and forces herself to look away, to look toward Mac who’s sprawled along the floor limply, eyes dazed and scrapes covering much of the exposed skin of his face and neck, the sight causing a lump in her throat.  _ Just a little longer, Mac, please _ . 

“Not so tough now, are we, Agent Nguyen?” Andrews walks into her vision, voice so smug and haughty it makes her blood  _ boil _ . He lowers himself, kneeling to her level, metal garrote dangling around his neck like a grotesque pendant. He’s grinning, manic and menacing with cold, sadistic  _ glee  _ that makes her gut churn. 

“When you and boy wonder over there kidnapped me, you were so  _ mean _ , so  _ violent  _ with your gun and threats of bodily harm and, well, I would be lying if I said having you here,” She flinches as he raises his hand, dragging his fingers down the side of her neck, slow and obscenely gentle. “With me and my new companion,  _ trapped _ , doesn’t just make me  _ ecstatic _ .” 

She clenches her jaw and tries to ignore his  _ disgusting  _ words, pulling away from his touch only for him to lunge forward suddenly, dropping his gun to wrap both of his hands around her throat, squeezing, suffocating,  _ choking _ , close enough that all she can see is his face, and all she can feel is his breath on her skin. 

“Let me tell you, Agent Nguyen, my friend has taught me some great new  _ tricks _ , and I would love to try them out on  _ you _ .” 

There’s a crack, shattering and loud, and she  _ pounces.  _

Throbbing pain radiates up her arms because she just broke her own damn thumb, or at the very least dislocated it, but she won’t get caught up in the semantics now because all that really matters is that she’s  _ free _ . She knocks Andrews to the ground with the full force of her body, his head hitting the floor with a sick  _ thud _ , Riley yelling out her name from behind, and lands awkwardly on top of him, her hands spasming something  _ horrible _ , but she ignores it as best she can at the moment and focuses on Andrews before he can get his bearings. He struggles under her, and she punches him once, then again, and  _ again _ , landing hit after hit until his face is red and bloody and he’s gone limp. 

If her hands weren’t broken before they definitely were now, swollen and smarting as she moves. Her breathing is heavy and wrong, eyes burning, but she can’t stop now because Murdoc is standing over Mac, gun in hand, aimed far too close to Mac’s head, whispering something taunting and sinister, so caught up in his horrendous murderous fantasy that he didn’t even notice her breaking free, and all she can think is  _ fuck this _ .  _ Fuck  _ Murdoc and his continuous  _ fucking  _ escapes and vendetta against Mac. 

She bites back a cry as she curls her bruised fingers around the gun Andrews dropped earlier, stands shakily, leveling the weapon at Murdoc’s back. 

“Stop and drop it!” 

Murdoc freezes, and turns slowly on his heel, eyes narrowing. “Desiree, this is not how we play the game.” 

“Well, I’m changing the rules.” She says darkly, and hopes he can’t detect the tremble in her tone. “ _ Drop the gun _ .” 

He waves a leather clad finger at her, a condescending smile spreading across his face that she so  _ badly  _ wants to hit. “No, I don’t think I will.” He pauses, and for a moment, it’s startlingly silent. Neither of them move, neither speak, caught in a grisly standstill. Her heart is beating hard in her chest, and she can almost hear the dripping of her own blood falling from her cut wrists. 

Then she sees in the corner of her eyes, Mac, breathing and alive and stubborn  _ Mac _ , carefully shifting where he’s laid out on the floor. He catches her gaze, hand sliding almost imperceptibly under his side, heading quietly toward his pants pocket.  _ Distract him _ , he mouths. 

Murdoc hasn’t noticed, his icy, lifeless stare still locked on her, and she uses that to her advantage. 

“You know,  _ Murdoc _ ,” She spits out the moniker with as much vitriol as she could. “If you wanna talk so much about secrets, Mac has told me some of yours.” 

“Oh, has he?”

“Yes,  _ Dennis _ . He has.” She can see a flash of uncertainty in his eyes, and knows she’s got him hooked. Mac has shuffled away some, something glinting and red in his hand.

“I have one question for you, how’s  _ Cassian _ ?” 

He freezes, face darkening. There’s anger and  _ rage _ , and Desi knows she’s hit the right spot. 

“How  _ dare  _ you -  _ Aghhh _ !” 

Mac must hit something important because Murdoc  _ crumbles _ and she wastes no time in kicking the gun out of his hand, the weapon scattering across the room. Her hands hurt, and she doesn’t think she could handle another fist fight, not if she ever wants to use her hands again, so she resorts to kicking at him again, once under the chin, and then again over his cheek, forcing him to the ground, his groan of pain cut short as he’s knocked out. Mac’s pocket knife is sticking out of the back of his ankle, blood spurting out of the limb.

Keeping her gun trained on his gun still form because she trusts him as far as she can throw him, she steps to where Murdoc placed the other zip ties earlier, snags a handful with a wince, because  _ shit  _ her fingers hurt just bending, and stalks over again. Mac has propped himself up against one of the metal legs of the machine, arm curled protectively over his abdomen, watching Murdoc like a hawk. His lips and chin are stained red and she hopes to  _ god  _ it’s not internal bleeding, and that the stutter to his breathing isn’t because of a broken rib, but she doesn’t have high hopes. 

“Uh, Desi? Wanna let me out now?”

_ Shit _ . Riley. She turns abruptly, and smiles sheepishly at her friend, still bound to the metal cart.  _ Whoops _ . There’s a tool box to the side on one of the shelves, and she digs through it carefully, gritting her teeth and releasing a relieved breath when she finds some sort of metal shear, sharp enough that it would cut through the plastic, and cuts Riley free with minimal struggle, as Riley did most of the work, looking concernedly at Desi’s bruised digits.

“Um, so, my hands hurt, like  _ really fucking bad _ . Do you want to-”

Riley cuts her off with an amused huff of breath. “Give me the zip ties, you maniac.” 

She gladly hands over them and the gun, taking pleasure in watching Riley drag Murdoc and Andrews not-so-nicely across the floor, cuffing them to the same metal cart she was tied to just minutes ago. 

“Dez?” Mac coughs out her name, hoarse and wet, and blood splatters onto his shirt. His breathing is worse and his face has become a deathly, worryingly pallor. He tries to stand, his legs barely holding his weight and he stumbles, falling to his knees, gasping. 

“ _ Mac _ !” 

She hurries to his side and catches him on instinct, guiding him to the floor despite the burning agony spreading up her arms and into her chest because he’s straining just for a  _ breath _ , clawing at his neck so desperately that her pain doesn’t matter,  _ he does _ . His head is cushioned on her lap, and she’s curled a quivering arm under his shoulders, and she can feel his lungs faltering, muscles tensing.  _ God, he isn’t breathing right _ . 

“It’s okay, baby, you’re gonna be okay.” She says, quiet and breaking, clumsily stroking her swollen fingers down his cheek. Her eyes burn, tears leaking without her permission that she doesn’t bother wiping away. He’s mouthing something barely audible, airy gasps around blood stained teeth, and suddenly all she can think about is the  _ damn ring _ he had hiding in his pocket all day because he wanted to  _ propose to her _ , and how he’s now covered in his own blood, possibly dying in her arms. She fights back a sob rising in her throat, but her lips tremble dangerously, so much so, she presses them to his forehead to stop herself from falling apart.

_ She can’t lose him again.  _

“ _ D-Desi _ ,” He wheezes, and his half lidded eyes meet hers dazedly. “Lo-love you.” 

“ _ I love you, too _ .” She whimpers. “But you’re not  _ leaving  _ me, okay? You’re not allowed to, Mac. Do you hear me?”

His lip twitches into something that could be a smile. “B-Bossy.” 

A sob, weeping and harsh, rips from her chest. “One of us has to be.” 

“ _ Hey _ ,” Riley cuts in, dropping beside them, strident and forceful. She’s holding a phone, screen lit up with an unended call, and Desi didn’t even  _ notice  _ Riley finding a phone to talk on, let alone hear her speaking. “No one is  _ dying _ . I called Matty and she’s rerouted an emergency crew, they’ll be here any minute.” 

“You hear that, Mac?” She rasps, and rests her forehead against his. “You’re gonna be okay, you  _ have  _ to be okay, so you can ask me properly so I can say  _ yes  _ .”

_ You have to be okay.  _

-

The hospital is packed with other first responders and victims of Murdoc’s man made earthquake, bustling and loud and really not helping the headache forming behind her eyes. Her and Desi barely managed to find open seats in the waiting room after Mac had been taken away, rushed to surgery with the EMTs and nurses throwing around scary words like  _ internal hemorrhaging  _ and  _ pneumothorax _ that just freaked out Desi and her even more than they already were. 

One of the EMTs had bandaged Desi’s wrists on the ride to the hospital and advised that she should get checked out too, but the doctors were spread thin as it is, and as her injury wasn’t life threatening, she was forced to deal with blood soaked gauze and swelling, sore fingers in a cramped, noisy waiting room. She hasn’t said a word since they’ve arrived, sitting in a stoic, sad silence, head resting on her forearms, and honestly, Riley would prefer her crying and panicking because she doesn’t know what to do with this tense quietness. She’s seen Desi mad, seen her upset, she gets explosive, she  _ seethes  _ and yells and spends hours in the Phoenix gym hitting sand bags until her knuckles go numb and Mac has to pull her out of there. 

She’s seen her mad, and it’s not this.  _ This  _ is somehow so much worse. 

Riley sucks in an unsure breath and places a hand on Desi’s shoulder. “Uh, Desi,”

“ _ Not _ right now, Riley,” The words tumble out with abandon, weak and subdued. “I don’t, I can’t talk about it, not now, not with -”

“Not with me?”

Desi tenses, as if just realizing what she was saying, and lifts her head abruptly to face Riley. “No, I didn’t mean,”

Riley shakes her head. “It’s okay, I get it.”  _ And she does get it _ . After what Murdoc and Andrews put them through today, what they revealed to Mac and Desi, a couple still putting themselves back together again in the wake of Codex and the pandemic, she thinks Desi deserves to be a little reserved around her. 

“Listen, I’ll be honest with you, I  _ did  _ have feelings for Mac. Real feelings.” 

Something in Desi’s face shifts, the steely veneer she’s held since Murdoc first played the audio clip of Riley admitting her feelings starting to slip, and this is why Riley didn’t say anything before about her crush, because Desi isn’t just Mac’s girlfriend, she’s her  _ friend _ , and the last thing Riley wants to do is hurt either of them. 

“But, these past few months, they’ve faded, gradually. I’m not sure what it was or when it started, but they did pass.” She thinks for a second of how to explain, to get Desi to understand and to get rid of those traitorous tears in her eyes. 

“One time, when I was still staying at his place, I remember waking up early, hearing you guys in the kitchen. You two were just drinking coffee, side by side, arguing quietly what to have for breakfast, and I just kept thinking, why couldn’t that be me?” She swallows heavily, wrapping her hands together nervously on her lap. Desi is silent, and she doesn’t quite know what to make of it, so she continues on. 

“Then, a couple days ago, at the Phoenix, I saw you guys leaving, talking about dinner and what movie to watch, and Mac just took your hand in his without even thinking about it, and my first thought wasn’t jealousy, or why couldn’t it be my hand he held, it was  _ good for them _ . Good for you two to have made it through another case  _ together  _ and make it home, safe and sound. Not  _ once  _ did I wish that it was me.” 

Saying the words out loud that she truly doesn’t love Mac like that, not anymore, is odd, but releasing. The shame and guilt that’s weighed on her is lessening, falling off her shoulders in waves. She feels like she can finally look Desi in the eye, and not feel like she’s wilting under the shadow of a lie. 

Desi blinks, once, twice, expression nearly unreadable. She’s always been skilled at hiding her emotions, burying them under hard glares and thin lips, but Riley can see her eyebrow twitch, her jaw clench. 

“Why,” Desi clears her throat. “Why didn’t you say anything before?”

“Are you kidding me?” Riley smirks lightly, knocking her shoulder against Desi’s. “Have you seen the way he looks at you? Mac  _ loves  _ you, Desi. I’ve never seen him as happy as he is when he’s with you, why would I do anything to put that in jeopardy?  _ Hell _ , he wants to marry you. Not me,  _ you _ .” 

Desi lets out a watery, muted laugh, despite the loose tears streaking down her cheek. She tries to wipe them away but her hands are pretty much useless right now, so Riley reaches out, swiping them away for her. She utters a small, sniffly  _ thanks _ , and then -

“I wanna marry him too.” Desi whispers gravelly and low, a soft confession. “ _ So bad _ . I didn’t even know how bad until I saw him pull out that ring, and thought about him actually  _ asking _ ,” 

She trails off, words failing, and Riley frowns. She gently wraps her arms around Desi, bringing her closer over the armrests of the chairs, and Desi just collapses against her, like a puppet with their strings cut. Her shoulders shake awfully, crying silently, and Riley thinks she might just be the only thing holding her together. 

“He’s gonna be okay. He’s  _ Mac _ , he’s fought through Codex and Murdoc and a damn pandemic to get back to us, back to  _ you _ . Everything's gonna be alright.”

She hopes her words will be true, that Mac will be okay, because she doesn’t know if  _ any  _ of them will be able handle the opposite outcome. 

-

Desi can’t hold his hand. 

She wants to, she so desperately wants to be able slot her fingers through his, trace the lines of his palms, feel the familiar bumps and calluses of his knuckles, and press her fingertips to his pulse point, but she  _ can’t,  _ her wrists had been stitched, splinted and hurt far too much to use, so she resorts to sliding the bed railing down, folding her arms over the blankets by his hip, and resting her head in the crook of her elbow, angling herself just so that she’s able to watch Mac’s chest rise up and down. 

He’s in the ICU, laid out flat in the small bed under thin blankets that smell like antiseptic and cheap laundry detergent, looking too pale and too hurt. There’s dark bruises forming along his chin, scratches marring the skin of his cheek and forehead, stitches along his hairline standing out against the blond fringe, and she can only imagine the contusions and injuries that lie beneath the hospital gown, adding to his already prominent array of scars. An oxygen cannula is threaded under his nose and over his ears, heart monitor sensors poking out from the top of the gown and connecting to the monitor pushed off to the side next to the IV stand. 

(It feels  _ wrong  _ looking at him in the state he is now, on his back and unconscious. He looks like he could be sleeping but she knows he’s not because this isn’t how Mac sleeps, Mac sleeps on his side with his legs bent, one arm curled under his pillow and the other draped over her, not this stiff stance in the middle of the bed.)

The surgery, while long, went well, and the doctors explained that Mac should recover with the right treatment, but wouldn’t be discharged from the hospital for at least another couple of days. They wanted to monitor him and his healing, especially his lung, which was punctured by a broken piece of rib. Riley had called Russ and Matty, who quickly pulled some strings and got them a safe house close to the hospital. While Murdoc and Andrews had been arrested, Phoenix was still working on tracking the others who joined the Codex video call, and didn’t want to risk them coming after Mac while he was vulnerable. 

Riley tried to convince her to stop by the safe house with her, change clothes, get some actual food, but she refused, she wasn’t leaving Mac. Just the thought of leaving his room, having him not in her sight, made her heart race uncomfortably fast in her chest. Riley seemed to have expected this, and instead of fighting her on it, just said she would be back later with breakfast and clean clothes. 

She’s not quite sure how long ago that was, time escaping from her grasp as exhaustion pulled at her bones. Her eyelids feel heavy, and it’s becoming more and more difficult to keep them open, and she  _ really  _ doesn’t want to fall asleep, she wants to be there when Mac wakes up, but she’s just so  _ tired  _ -

Then there’s a hand in her hair, brushing through the strands, gingerly tucking them behind her ear. The hand stops there, cupping her cheek, a familiar thumb running over the skin under her eyes, tracing slowly, and  _ that  _ wakes her up. Mac is looking at her with soft, fond eyes,  _ awake _ , and she sucks in a stuttered breath. 

“Mac,” She sits up, bringing her chair closer, his hand falling back to the bed. Her eyes sting, and she silently curses the tears welling up. “A-Are you okay? How do you feel?”

“Better now.” He says, voice dry and cracking so much he has to clear his throat. 

She shakes her head, but is smiling. “Sap.”

He sobers, taking in her bandaged wrists and red eyes. “Are  _ you  _ okay?” He asks nervously, fidgeting with the end of her sleeve, still rolled up from when she was treated. “Did Andrews do this?”

She bites at the inside of her cheek, hiding a wince. He’s not gonna like her answer, and she’s tempted to blame Andrews, but she can’t lie to him. 

“Um, I had to get out of the zip cuffs.” She says simply. She can see the gears turning in his head, connecting the dots, eyes darting between her two injured wrists and back up to her face. 

“You  _ broke your own hands _ ?’’ He exclaims, shocked and incredulous, and she’s struck with the need to defend herself because  _ of course she broke her hands _ , she did it for him. 

“I  _ had  _ to, Murdoc was going to, gonna,” She chokes on the word over the lump in her throat, and has to look away. “He was going to  _ kill  _ you, Mac. He was so close, and I  _ panicked _ , okay? I just needed to get free to save  _ you _ . I can’t lose you again, I  _ won’t _ . I  _ love  _ you.”

He’s tugging on her sleeve, pulling her down until their lips meet, and suddenly all she can taste is  _ him _ , all she can feel is his hand circling the back of her neck, holding her like he  _ never wants to let go  _ again.

(She doesn’t want to either.)

He pulls away, falling back against the pillows with a small, relieved grin, and she is so goddamn thankful she gets to see that grin again, that that grin is hers and hers alone. “I love you, too.”

“You are  _ so  _ not allowed to die before our wedding.”

“Our wedding?” He sounds so hopeful, so damn  _ happy _ , that she can’t help but smile. 

“Yeah, our wedding.” She confirms, and leans down to kiss him again, swift and soft and slow because this is _one_ of _many_ more to come. 

**Author's Note:**

> uhhhhhhh i hate writing dialogue and I think i butchered the ending but oh well *shrugs* 
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading! It really means a lot! <3333


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